


Fic: Dutiful (STXI, NC-17)

by spockalicious



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: D/s, M/M, Masterbation, Orgasm Delay/Denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-23
Updated: 2012-01-23
Packaged: 2017-10-30 00:32:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/325812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spockalicious/pseuds/spockalicious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock carries out his assigned duty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fic: Dutiful (STXI, NC-17)

**Author's Note:**

> Aesthetics of pleasure mental/textural/environmental stimulus.

Spock entered his quarters. “Computer, lights, 45%, temperature 39.67 degrees.” There was a beep of acknowledgment from the environmental control unit as Spock proceeded to immediately remove his uniform shirt, walking through the shadows of his quarters toward his bedroom.

Taking a seat on a chair of carved Vulcan ash in the corner of the bedroom, Spock removed his boots and the remainder of his clothing, peeling off thin thermal underwear until he sat naked, permitting himself a moment of private freedom.

“Computer, increase temperature to 40.12 degrees, set humidity at 13.2%.” The environmental control unit beeped and Spock exhaled slowly as his skin tingled with the subtle change in the atmosphere of his quarters.

Spock settled back into the gentle curve of the chair, his skin slipping easily against the sheer smooth surface of the Vulcan ash already warmed by his body. Spock draped his arms over the arms of the chair, his hands settling neatly upon the polished bulbous rounds, thumbs finding the hollows on the inside of the chair ends. Stretching out his legs he closed his eyes.

“Computer, reduce lights to 32.1%.”

Spock heard the beep of acknowledgment from the computer and exhaled slowly shifting his attention to the low hum in his veins and the warmth across his skin. Slowly he flexed his toes against the fine thread of the carpet following the tingles of sensation running along the soles of his bare feet. He flexed again, stretching his toes wide before rubbing the thread of the carpet, his breath catching lightly in his throat. He swallowed, inhaling deeply and eased the tension that had crept into his shoulders.

Tentatively Spock flexed his toes again, his contact upon the carpet light eliciting pin prickles of sensation that warmed nerve endings before dying. He shifted in the chair, sliding a little further down and adjusted his legs, widening his knees beginning a delicate repetition of movement, toes alternately flexing and stretching against the weave of the carpet. Waves of sensation crawled into the arches of his feet and threaded around the backs of his ankles. Spock curled his toes tightly against the floor as tingles travelled up into his calves, his breath catching as his calf muscles twitched involuntarily in response.

Spock stilled, acknowledging the slight increase in his respiration rate and eased his legs, answering the need to stretch momentarily before continuing a steady rhythm against the carpet. Nerves sang with life, an inexorable rise of increasing warmth that made his muscles wrap to bone and the steady flexing rhythm require all of his concentration to maintain. Moisture touched his abdomen and Spock opened his eyes, his gaze flicking down past the tip of his nostrils that flared with each deep inhalation he took to the prominence of the erection between his legs that twitched with each flex of his toes.

Spock’s lips parted slowly as he watched the fact that had slipped his conscious acknowedgment, his mind clinging to maintaining the flexing rhythm of his toes as another demand pressed for his attention. Slowly he flexed his wrists bringing the tips of his fingers to rest lightly upon the bulbous ends of the chair arms, already ripened nerves opening in a flash of heat as he began to rub delicate circles across the smooth silk of the wood.

Spock mouthed a soundless word as he maintained a half lidded, careful watch upon the swelling double ridges of his erection. Part of him acknowledged the inevitable erosion of control, careful rhythm of toes and fingers faltering slightly as sensation danced along nerves flooding conscious thought. Heat pooled in his groin and down between his legs, his resting testicles answering the subtle shift in his hips against the smooth wood of the chair.

Spock swallowed and forced his voice steady. “Computer, private comm. Commander Spock. To. Captain Kirk.” Spock gasped a breath as the communication frequency beeped quietly.

“Did you carry out my orders, Commander?” Kirk’s voice was low and even across the comm.

Spock fought a rush of heat under skin, screwing his eyes closed as his rhythm faltered momentarily, toes curling as fingers splayed wide before resuming their steady rhythm. His breath caught in this throat as he opened his eyes once more staring down between his legs at the fresh moisture coating the tip of his erection.

Spock’s mouth hovered open. “Affirmative,” he quavered finally, his eyes closing as he fought for coherence.

“I’m very pleased about that,” crooned Kirk. Spock dug his teeth into his lower lip, his fingers making erratic movements against the smooth wood of the chair as Kirk’s words reverberated through his quarters.

“You made an error today, Commander,” continued Kirk, his tone as smooth as the wood under Spock’s fingers. Spock nodded wordlessly biting back a whimper. “You know what that means, don’t you Commander?” Spock gasped, shuddering against a wave of sensation that curled down his spine and crawled between his ass against the chair.

“Affirmative,” mouthed Spock, his erection twitching against his abdomen smearing sticky lines across his burning skin. “Permission to be relieved from duty, Captain,” he begged, his voice a thin, wavering line of control as he squirmed in the chair, one knee rising lifting a curled foot from the floor.

There was a long pause. “Permission granted.”

Raising a hand to his mouth, Spock ran his tongue over the pads of his fingers barking something inarticulate as his will shattered. Conscious thought followed dissolving into contracting muscles releasing his heat in thick moist threads that coated his stomach and chest. Spock sagged, his hand dropping from his mouth, fingers trailing through the sticky residue across his chest.

“Thank you, Captain,” he croaked weakly, spread in the chair unable to move limb by will or effort, his body seemingly floating in a sea of warmth.

“Thank you, Commander,” said Kirk, his voice soft and smiling. “You’re a very, very good first officer. Make sure there are no creases in your uniform tomorrow now. I expect discipline aboard my ship.”

Spock nodded, exhaling a sigh. “Affirmative, Captain. I shall endeavour to perform admirably.”

“I’m sure you will, Commander,” crooned Kirk.

Spock heard the comm. beep as it closed leaving him alone in the silent shadows of his quarters. “I will,” he whispered, a quiet hum in his veins that remained until he fell asleep.


End file.
